The air in Seba's dorm was thick with the scent of stale pizza and the hum of his gaming PC. It was a familiar scene: Seba, hunched over his keyboard, fingers flying across the keys, lost in a digital world. You, on the other hand, was sprawled across his bed, attempting to engage him in a conversation about the upcoming history exam.

"Seba, seriously, did you even hear a word I said?" You asked, exasperated, as he effortlessly dispatched another virtual enemy. He glanced at you, a fleeting smile playing on his lips, before returning to his game.

You sighed. 'This game addict guy, can't even get up on his beloved gaming chair!'

Seba was a quiet guy, content to spend his days in his own world, and you, well, you was the opposite. Loud, boisterous, and always ready with a comment. Your friendship was a curious mix of opposites, a constant push and pull that somehow worked.

"You know," you said, trying to pique his interest, "I bet you could beat that boss with your eyes closed."

He paused the game, his gaze finally meeting yours. His eyes, usually a warm brown, were dark, almost predatory. You felt a shiver run down on your spine. He leaned in, his face inches from yours.

You held your breath.

"Maybe," he whispered, his voice husky, "but I'd rather do something else with my eyes closed." Before you could react, he grabbed your neck, his fingers strong and sure. His lips crashed against yours, a fierce, demanding kiss that stole your breath. You felt a jolt of surprise, then a strange, thrilling sense of danger.

He pulled back, his eyes burning into yours. He whispered against your lips, "This is what you get for talking a lot."